


Blood and Ice

by kinkisthenewblack



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, bit of a hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-01-27 14:29:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1713971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkisthenewblack/pseuds/kinkisthenewblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Sebastian gets hurt while on a job, causing Jim to realize that he cares about his sniper. Jim is furious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tiger's Blood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Doctor_Gabriel_Sherlock_Potter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Gabriel_Sherlock_Potter/gifts).



> Chapters 1 & 2 are the actual story; chapter 3 is just some gratuitous smut I decided to tack onto the end. Enjoy!

The job had seemed so simple, just a run-of-the-mill kidnapping. Unfortunately, life never went as planned. He'd succeeded in kidnapping the diplomat, of course. Sebastian Moran didn't botch jobs. He'd chloroformed and hogtied the American, and was halfway finished stuffing him into an oversized suitcase when the man's bloody body guard had entered the hotel room. By the time Seb had snapped his neck and shoved the body into a closet, he was covered in bruises and had a knife in his ribs. However, he didn't have time to be injured, so he threw on a stolen coat and delivered the "package" to a waiting van. During the ride to the safehouse, Sebastian removed the knife and bandaged his chest. He was just a bit dizzy...

After tying the diplomat to a chair in the basement, Sebastian went upstairs to wait for the boss. He was already there. "You took much longer on this one, Tiger." Boss didn't sound happy. Shit. "I had to say hullo to his bodyguard, Boss. No witnesses, y'know," it was getting hard to concentrate, but Boss' smile told him that'd been the right answer. Then Boss frowned. Uh-oh. "Tiger, you look a bit peaky. Did you go and get yourself hurt?"

"Naw, s'just a flesh wound..." Sebastian managed before he felt himself fall. A voice floated down from far away, "Damnit, Seb. I told you not to let them get near your head..."

***

Sebby had passed out before, so Jim went to step over him to head towards the basement when a stain on his shoe stopped him. Annoyed that his sniper had bled on his good shoes, he bent to wipe it off when he noticed the bandages around Seb's chest and the blood pouring through them. Something, around where Jim's heart would be, squeezed. That is, if Jim had a heart. He was fairly sure he didn't, but the pressure didn't ease, and that pissed him off. "Seb, get your arse off my floor, you're staining it!" But the sniper remained unconscious, stubbornly refusing to answer Jim's unspoken plea. "SEBBY! GET UP THIS INSTANT!" Still, nothing. Fear raced through Jim's veins, and before he could think too much about it, he covered the wound with one hand while the other called a doctor he had on payroll.

"Tiger, tiger, burning bright..."


	2. Heart of Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is forced to contemplate life without Sebastian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit mad, because it takes place mostly inside Jim's mind, and he's more than a bit mad.

_"...in the forests of the night,"_

Sebby was still unconscious. The private doctor had had to completely open up his side, sew shut his punctured left lung, wire together a shattered rib, and sew him up again from the outside. The doctor's schleppers had been very careful when moving Sebastian, knowing if they damaged the sniper, Jim Moriarty would personally pull their spines out their asses. He was a business asset, after all.

The tight feeling hadn't left him, though, and he was beginning to wonder if it was a medical problem. He had it checked out by the doctor, who said Jim was healthy as a horse, but suggested an alternative: perhaps Jim was worried about his friend? Jim looked at him in indignant shock for about two seconds before drawing his gun and painting the wall with the man's brain matter. It was very satisfying. 

It wasn't until much later that night, when the stink of congealing blood had been replaced with the sharp smell of bleach and the London beyond the windows was quiet with sleep, that Jim Moriarty felt doubt. Caring? He'd never cared for anyone, or about anything. As he'd said to the Holmes brat: dying is what people do. But the thought that Sebby might never wake up was... painful? He'd always liked pain, but this...  _this_ was unbearable. Was this what caring felt like?

No.  _James Moriarty, you have made it this long without caring to rot your brain, do not start now!_ he reprimanded himself. But it was there. He  ** _cared_.** It was disgusting. He stalked to his study to think. By the time he'd calmed down, however, it seemed he'd destroyed the study. Again. Damnit. He sat down on the remains of his desk and thought darkly,  _You just had to go and get yourself cut to ribbons, didn't you, Sebby?_

When Sebastian finally woke, Jim walked in, slapped him full across the face, then pulled him up by the neck into a kiss that was more teeth than anything.

"Don't  _ever_ do that again," Jim spat, stalking out of the room.

_"what immortal hand or eye..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next stop, smutville.


	3. What Became of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seb's POV.  
> Gratuitous smut as promised. ♡♥♡♥♡

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

_"...dare frame thy fearful symmetry?"_

It's been a month since I was stabbed. Boss hasn't mentioned the kiss, and since I'd rather like to keep my spine intact, I've not said anything either. I'm starting to wonder if I hallucinated it.

***

"Sebby...?" Jim's voice floated in from the master bedroom. Sebastian paled, Jim only called him that when he was contemplating killing him. "Sebby, come here!" 

"Yes, Boss!" Sebastian stood easily and cautiously walked into the master bedroom to find Jim staring at himself in the mirror. He was wearing, of all things, a v-neck t-shirt, faded grey cargo pants with bright green pants peeking out, and converse sneakers. Sebastian's jaw nearly hit the floor in his shock. Though Boss was dressed in "grunge", he was still somehow absolutely immaculate. "Sebby, what do you think? Will the Virgin pick me out of a crowd as gay?" 

"Erm, he's more your area, Boss. I just do the killing." 

"Right you are, Sebby." Jim smiled dangerously. Sebastian was halfway between shitting himself in fear and tackling Boss onto the bed and having his way. If he was going to die, he might as well have one hell of an orgasm first. And Damn, Boss' arse looked good in those... "Sebby, are you paying any attention to what I'm saying?" Sebastian blinked. Shit. Mania lit in Jim's eyes as he walked towards Sebastian. "Do you like this outfit?"

"Yeah, I'd have to say I-" Just then, he was cut off by Jim's mouth on his. He whimpered. Jim Moriarty was a predator, and thus used the sniper's own body against him. Jim kissed, licked, and bit Sebastian into submission. Or rather, into a sweating, shivering coil of lust plastered against the wall, pinned upright by Jim's body. Sebastian stopped caring if Boss killed him, and ground his hips against Jim's earning a quiet groan and Boss' hands gripping his arse. Boss rutted against him until they both came in their pants like teenagers. Jim threw his soiled pants and trousers at Sebastian. "Wash these." Jim stripped naked and slid into his bed, "Wake me when they're dry."

Sebastian smiled and turned to leave.

"Sebby?"shit.

"Yes, Boss?"

"Next time, you'll suck me off."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's another MorMor fic coming up, a one-shot of complete, unadulterated, NSFW, slightly-gory sex. :3
> 
> Poem excerpt from William Blake's Tiger.


End file.
